


Happier.

by pisceshoon



Series: unsaid words - jikyu [1]
Category: TREASURE (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, BUT REALLY JUST MENTIONNED, But not that much, Drunken Kissing, Flashbacks, Friendship, High School, How Do I Tag, JiKyu, M/M, Mention of sex, One Shot, One-Sided Attraction, Romance, Swearing, Unrequited Love, im sorry, jaesahi is just mentionned, kinda asshole park jihoon, sad kim junkyu, thats just sad honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29178906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pisceshoon/pseuds/pisceshoon
Summary: "You look happier, you do."Or when all they have slowly fade away.
Relationships: Kim Junkyu/Park Jihoon, Park Jihoon/Kim Junkyu
Series: unsaid words - jikyu [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2194005
Comments: 10
Kudos: 25





	Happier.

**Author's Note:**

> hello ! it's my first time writing a fanfiction about treasure  
> i saw an edit about jihoon on twitter, and it gave me this idea so here i am !
> 
> first of all, english isn't my native language so there may be some mistakes  
> second, i'm sorry. 
> 
> enjoy !

The night. Its thick ink curtain and Olympian calm. Its monstrous softness and disturbing serenity. The infamous stars, mocking the slightest torture of men.  
The night. Its stray cats and its empty abandoned beer cans. Its dismantled carcasses and its silent crimes. The eager soul, begging for renewal.  
The night. The only one. The only necessity to offer this little lost boy an ounce of peace and quiet. A partial tranquility.

Kim Junkyu.

He was frankly not the child most to be pitied. He was one of those children who are hardly noticed and never blamed for anything. Who doesn't do anything wrong, but nothing very well either. Breath-taking banality. And maybe that was the problem in the end.

Leaning against his window, his gaze lost in the expanse of the night sky, Junkyu couldn't stop thinking about him. Over and over again. He hasn’t been able to sleep for nights. For only one reason. Only one person. Him.

Park Jihoon. 

He was surely the most incredible person he had ever met. Everybody loved Park Jihoon. Junkyu was the first. They had known each other for years. They had become strangers again a few months ago.  
Jihoon glowed. Jihoon was an eye-catcher. He had attracted Junkyu’s eyes, and never again had he diverted them. Junkyu loved Jihoon. Jihoon didn't love Junkyu. Not in the same way. And that had destroyed everything.

It all started in his first year in high school. Junkyu had never really been the sociable type, and he was a little anxious about the transition to high school. Rumors about high school were all around him. Some people said that people were becoming more mature. Others said it was the opposite and that there was judgment everywhere in the hallways. His only source of comfort was Yoon Jaehyuk, his childhood friend, whom he had never left. They hadn't been lucky enough to be in the same class, but they were at least in the same school, and that took some weight off Junkyu's shoulders. 

His first class of the day had gone well to say the least, he sat in the middle of the class, alone at a table, and that suited him rather well. He was blending in, unnoticed as always. It was certainly better that way. But life wasn't necessarily all about being "better".

\- You’re alone? 

His gaze rose from the notebook on which he was scribbling some deformed drawings, crossing the gaze of another boy, certainly from his class. He hadn't noticed him before, probably because he had refused to look at anyone for more than two seconds. And yet Jaehyuk had told him to try to make new friends. Junkyu just didn't feel like it. Until now. His irises were lost in contemplation of the young man standing in front of him. Tall, certainly his height. Brown. Pulpy lips stretched out in a warm smile. His eyes fixed on him, deep, shivering to the abyss. His anthracite locks were kind of messy, as if he hadn't taken the time to put them in place properly this morning. Junkyu soon noticed the mole on his cheekbone, taking note of its heart shape. The boy was absolutely gorgeous, a charm that would leave anyone captivated. 

\- Obviously. 

A sharp laugh escaped his classmate, and Junkyu could have sworn that this was the most beautiful melody he had ever heard in his entire life. Without even trying to find out more, whether Junkyu agreed or not, the boy sat down beside him, starting a discussion of which Junkyu followed almost nothing, too busy admiring his classmate's profile. And that's how Park Jihoon came into his life.

The moon, with its ashen light and arched back, was judging the young man who had just slipped a cigarette between his lips. And certainly she had every right to do so. He, himself, found it simply ridiculous to dwell on the events of the past in this way, his thoughts racing through his mind like a racehorse in search of victory. The stars kept shouting at him, constantly reminding him of how pitiful he was. 3am, and Jihoon invaded his mind as he had on the first day. Yet Jihoon was a thing of the past. And he wouldn't leave it. Surely he had already forgotten him, so why did the black haired boy have to endure the cruel torture of lack, the melancholy of the times of days gone by. He still remembered everything perfectly. All he asked was for his brain to erase the images of Jihoon. Jihoon's smile. Jihoon's eyes. Jihoon's laughter. Jihoon's lips. Jihoon's mole. Jihoon. Jihoon. Jihoon...

Park Jihoon had no trouble making a place for himself in Kim Junkyu's life. He had introduced him to some of his friends, Hyunsuk, Yedam and Mashiho. He had a whole bunch of others because Jihoon was the popular type. He had introduced him to Jaehyuk, who was very happy to see that Junkyu had managed to be a bit more sociable. His friend himself had introduced him to someone from his class, a certain Hamada Asahi, a student who, like Mashiho, came from Japan. And that was how their group of friends formed, for the rest of their high school years. The boys shared everything, their joys, their sorrows, their love stories. They were happy together. Yet something seemed to be missing in Junkyu. And he knew exactly what it was.

He and Jihoon soon became closer, best friends. The older one kept saying that he and the younger were so different that it made them perfectly compatible, that they were made to meet each other, to become friends. Platonic soul mates. Platonic. Every time Junkyu heard this term, he could feel his heart squeeze a little tighter. A little more painfully. Only he knew how his feelings for Jihoon had evolved. That they were no longer just friendly. And while everyone thought that he and Jihoon were getting closer and closer every day, he had this horrible feeling that his friend was further away than never.

It wasn't until their senior year of high school that his feelings had become so important that it was difficult for Junkyu to even face Jihoon's gaze. He had always managed to silence his love, not to make it too showy. It seemed to work, as his best friend continued to act as he had always done with him. And that reassured him as much as it made him suffer. His feelings would never be reciprocated. Maybe it wasn't so bad, maybe what he was feeling would eventually disappear and he and Jihoon could keep their friendship as it was. He doubted it, strongly. In the space of two years, they had only grown stronger, why would they disappear overnight?  
Jaehyuk had already tried to talk to him about his relationship with Jihoon because he was the only one who had noticed it. Surely he knew him better than the others, because they had been friends since childhood. But Junkyu had refused to admit it. Because admitting his feelings would give them an importance he didn't want to give them. He wanted to see them disappear. And maybe he saw the worry in Jaehyuk's eyes when he assured him that everything was fine, but if that was the case, then he chose to simply ignore it.

\- Everything is okay, my Kyu? 

My Kyu. He was the only one to call him that, the others were content with a simple "Kyu". It was his way of making himself special. More than he already was. Junkyu loved it. He loved being his Kyu. It was only friendly, he knew that, but it gave him hope of having a more important place in Jihoon's heart.

\- Yeah, why?  
\- You’re just a little weird these days.  


Junkyu's gaze had shifted from his sketchbook to his friend lying in the grass beside him. He had noticed it? Did he have any idea how he felt about him? The black haired boy quickly dismissed this possibility, his elder had certainly only noticed the distance he sometimes established between them. He couldn't blame him, he and Jihoon were constantly glued to each other, as if the slightest distance between them would kill them. But it was becoming too much for Junkyu to bear. Every time he was next to him, Jihoon's fruity scent intoxicated him, and he couldn't think of anything else. He wanted to drown in his scent.  
Silently, the irises of the youngest travelled over his friend's extended silhouette, his arms behind his head, eyes closed. The rays of Phoebus caressed his pale skin, making it shine. He was the most beautiful element of the landscape and anyone passing by would inevitably stop to look at him, like a work of art in a museum. His heart was the museum in which Jihoon was locked up, without him knowing it. And at that moment, Junkyu thought that he never wanted his friend to escape him. That as long as he had him by his side, everything would be all right.

\- I’m fine, Jihoon.  
\- I love you, Kyu.  
\- I love you too. 

_You don’t do it like I do._

With his fingertips, Junkyu retraced the sight of Seoul in the dark, skimming the buildings in the distance. His cigarette was coming to an end, yet Jihoon's smile had not burned into his mind. There wasn't a moment in the boy's company that Junkyu hadn't remembered over the past few nights, but the boy was still there, occupying his thoughts as if he were the owner. The work of art had not left the museum, however, it was no longer legally held there. As if the love he had for the boy was taboo, even forbidden. There was nothing pleasant left for him. Nothing warm. An icy peak that froze his heart in time, preventing him from moving forward, forcing him to remain the victim of a love that was destroying him more and more. It was at that moment that his most painful memory decided to make its way to his brain, Junkyu's fingers leaving the shape of the buildings to fall back into the void.

This was their last summer before they entered university. Not all of them would go to the same colleges, they knew they wouldn't see each other as much as they used to, but since they all stayed in Seoul, they wouldn't lose sight of each other at all. So Junkyu didn't really understand why his friends had insisted on pulling him to this party organized by a boy from their class, as if it would be the last one they would ever spend together. Jihoon in particular had offered him a whole bunch of arguments as to why his presence was absolutely necessary. Kinda dramatic, if you asked him. Junkyu had finally given in. Because he was Jihoon, and he couldn't refuse Jihoon anything. And so he found himself sitting on a sofa, next to Asahi who himself had no desire to be there, watching people dancing and laughing loudly. Unfortunately for him, Jaehyuk had quickly come to get his boyfriend to force him to enjoy the evening, leaving Junkyu alone with himself. A migraine was beginning to tighten his skull and the only solution he found to try to make it go away was to give himself a glass of vodka. Then another one. And another one. Until he stopped counting them.

\- My Kyuuuuu.

Jihoon's voice had resounded so loudly near his ear that it made him jump, the older man's arms now wrapped around his shoulders, his body bent over the back of the sofa. Junkyu had to tilt his head backwards so that he could lay his eyes on his best friend's face, the redness on his cheeks telling him that he too had probably been drinking.

\- You’re drunk, Jihoon.  
\- And so are you. 

Junkyu couldn't find an answer to that, because it was the pure truth. Soon his friend found himself sitting next to him on the sofa, sitting cross-legged, facing him. And while the younger boy's irises were trying to capture Jihoon's, Jihoon left his owns lying on the black haired boy’s face, a new silence surrounding them.

\- You’re really pretty, Kyu. 

Junkyu's brain suddenly ignored all the noises around them, all the people around them. Only Jihoon counted. Jihoon and his eyes, which now found his again. Jihoon and his lips stretched out in a silly smile. Jihoon and his heart-shaped beauty mark that Junkyu loved so much, and on which he wanted to leave his fingers hanging for the umpteenth time. And Junkyu couldn't tell when this would happen, but his lips met those of his best friend. At first shyly, as if both of them were afraid of discovering each other in this way. But the shyness vanished as soon as Jihoon's hand trapped his neck, his fingers playing with the few strands of hair that fell down. Their lips moved in perfect synchronicity, Jihoon leading the exchange, Junkyu just enjoying it. Nothing had ever seemed so pleasant to him before. He was almost certain that his heart would explode with joy. His own fingers had found themselves clutching his best friend's shoulders. The kiss lasted, long, or maybe not, Junkyu had lost track of time. All he could think of was Jihoon's lips against his own. He felt only Jihoon's body against his own. Eventually they had left the sofa, exchanging more kisses in the corridor that led them to a room whose door was soon closed behind them. And they kissed again and again, drunk from each other, discovering each other more intimately, as if their lives depended on it.

When Junkyu opened his eyes the next day, the bed was empty of any presence other than his own. Nothing around him could testify to Jihoon's presence in that room that night. Everything about him could. Hickeys were hanging from his neck to his numb lower back. But the older wasn't there. He wasn't even in the house any more, and the black haired boy’s stomach twisted with apprehension. All this didn't bode well for him at all. He, in turn, had gone home, anxious. And it wasn't until the next day that Jihoon contacted him, sending him a message after ignoring all his family, asking him to meet him in the square where they used to meet.

With a heavy heart, Junkyu had joined his friend, and he had no trouble finding him, lying where he always did, the youngest one usually sitting next to him drawing in his sketchbook. And so he did. He sat down beside him, his knees bent against his chest, his eyes studying every blade of grass. Silence weighed over their heads for a few moments before Junkyu decided to break it.

\- Hey.  
\- You remember? 

Jihoon's question almost took his breath away. He had, however, expected them to have this discussion, because he was almost sure that if he remembered it, so would his friend, and it was for this very reason that he hadn't answered him the day before. The brunette's heart swelled with apprehension, but he couldn't run away, so he gently nodded his head.

\- I do.  
\- Why did you do that?  
\- Jihoon, that’s not…  
\- Junkyu, why?

It was so rare that he called him by his full name, without the little possessive pronoun in front. The tone of his voice was so cold, so distant, that Junkyu thought he was going to faint, so much so that the pain pierced his heart suddenly. Jihoon was obviously angry with him. And something was telling him that that kiss had broken something that they couldn't fix.  
Junkyu hesitated for a moment before turning to look at Jihoon, who was now sitting behind him too. His expression was completely closed and yet he could perceive the anger dancing in the depths of his eyes. The black haired boy could no longer back down, nor did he even want to. All this had been too much for him for three years and he needed to express it.

\- Because I love you, Jihoon. More than I should love my best friend. I can't even tell you when it started. Maybe the first day you talked to me? Maybe after? I don't know. But you are everywhere, in my heart, in my thoughts, in my dreams. I can't think of anything else but you. It's not my fault, Jihoon. I didn't ask to fall in love with you, you know. If I could, I certainly wouldn't have chosen to. Because it hurts. It hurts so much to know that you'll never love me like I love you. And I can't blame you for that, of course, but... But two days ago you... You came up to me, you said I was pretty and you kissed me. You made love to me, like no one had ever made love to me before. I felt so precious in your eyes, so loved in your arms. I never felt like I belonged anywhere more than I did near you. I thought, at that moment, that maybe, just maybe, my feelings were not one-sided. But I guess I was wrong, I guess it was just the alcohol. But that doesn't change the way I feel. I love you, Jihoon. I really love you.

It was silence that greeted his words, the tears that had come to drown his eyes now falling down his cheeks, when he could not find the strength to look at his friend. The tension between them was terrifying. Unbearable. Junkyu couldn't put into words what he was feeling. At first he was relieved to be able to confess all this. He hadn't lied for a moment. Never in his life had he felt as loved as he did in Jihoon's arms. That was where he belonged, nowhere else. But suffering had soon replaced that, and it seemed to him that his heart began to bleed, and he couldn't stop, because he knew he was going to lose Jihoon. Never again could he let his eyes admire the face of his best friend, the boy he was in love with. Never again would his fingers get lost in his hair or on the mole that adorned his cheekbone. Never again would he laugh with him. Never again would they share their pain. Never again. 

\- And I don’t. I don't love you Junkyu, not like that. You know I don't. I can't believe you used the fact that I was drunk to get me to sleep with you.  
\- No, I didn’t-…  
\- Shut up! Yes, yes you did! I'm straight, never in my life would I have touched you like that if I wasn't drunk. Again, you know that. And that's why you did it. You're disgusting Junkyu. I thought you were my best friend, but I guess I was wrong.  
\- Jihoon, please…  
\- Let’s never meet again, Junkyu. 

And that's how all that they had faded away.

The night was the only spectator of the sad spectacle that Junkyu offered her. He hadn't even realized that tears had begun to fall, that his heart had been tightened. It had all been going on for several months now, but it still hurt as much as ever.

They had not seen each other again. Junkyu had tried to hold back his best friend, but the latter had never replied to any of his messages. He had lost him. For real. The pain had been so great that he had spent the rest of the summer locked in his room mourning his loss. Jaehyuk had tried in vain to get him out, to show him that life didn't stop at Jihoon. But it was simply impossible. Park Jihoon was his world. Everything revolved around him. He couldn't imagine himself without him. It wasn't conceivable for Junkyu.  
The university hadn't started in the best way for him. He hadn't yet had time to mend his broken heart, to get back on his feet, so it was not easy for him to follow his classes in a tedious way. But he had held on, despite the sleepless nights. Despite the suffering that refused to be silenced. Despite his love, which did not disappear. And he felt like he had done a good job. 

Until today.

This hadn't happened since the summer before university. Since that very special day when their friendship had come to an end. He had saw Jihoon again. He didn't know if the older had noticed him too, he hadn't shown any sign of it. He had stopped his walk when, through the window of a café, he saw his old friend sitting at a table. His hair had been bleached from being as black as his own and was now a pretty blonde that looked great on him. He was still as handsome as ever. So radiant. Junkyu's heart had fallen into his chest, all the memories coming to the surface. And he wished he hadn't stopped, that he hadn't had time to observe it. Maybe he wouldn't have noticed the girl sitting in front of him. He wouldn't have seen their linked hands. He wouldn't have witnessed the broad smiles of love he was offering her. Those smiles he would have so much wanted to receive. It surely hadn't lasted more than two minutes, during which he had stopped in the middle of the pavement to see the happiness in which Jihoon was swimming, without him, but it had been enough, enough for the suffering he had felt the day his friend had rejected him to resurface savagely. The black haired boy had finally returned to his path, with the images of Jihoon and his girlfriend tattooed on his mind.

And here he was now. 

Sitting at his window, crying for his lost love under the stars. The night was now well advanced, the screen of his phone already indicating 5:30 am. Junkyu then unlocked it, his eyes falling on the message he had sent a few hours earlier to the one he still was in love with. A small “seen” was just under his text. He had read it. He hadn't replied. And Junkyu hoped that this message would be the last one. He read it again and again, as if to make sure he would never forget it, while he would help him to erase Jihoon.

“You look happier, you do.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you had fun, haha-
> 
> anyway, i will maybe write a sequel, because honestly, ending it with a sad junkyu kinda broke my heart so....who knows?
> 
> thank you for reading, have a nice day/night !


End file.
